Imaginotions

Front matter

THE COUNCILORS RETURN TO THE PALACE WITH THEIR REPORTS. (SEE PAGE 148.)

IMAGINOTIONS TRUTHLESS TALES

BY TUDOR JENKS

1. Prehistoric Photography

PREHISTORIC PHOTOGRAPHY

AN old manuscript recently discovered by a German professor seems to indicate a very early origin for the photographic camera.

The original text is in Sanskrit, and the translation is faithful in all respects. The preamble, as usual, recites the titles of the potentate who figures in the story, and I omit most of it. The first sentence, however, helps us to fix the date.

It ran thus: "In the period of rulers from the land over the sea, when the ice-bridge existed, in the times of the forefathers of the ancestors of the forerunners; in the reign of the great, wise, strongest-in-battle and swiftest-in-retreat, the outrunner-of-the-chariots-of-the-five-toed-horses, in the thirteenth period after the slaying of the next-to-last toothed bird"—and so on.

The references to the glacial period, to the original form of the present horse, and to the pterodactyl will convince any student of geology that this document is perhaps the oldest in existence. Indeed, the university has conferred upon the professor a purple ribbon to wear on Sundays in recognition of this remarkable discovery. I will add only that the old papyrus which contained the story was found with others in a stone chest upheaved during an earthquake in Asia Minor.

Thus runs the story:

Came rumors and sayings to the sharp ear of the ruler, who gave orders to the swordbearer and bowmen to betake them to the cave of the image-maker, and, having laid hands upon him, to walk him quickly to the ruler's house.

But he of the sword did shake in his sandal-straps, and his hair did point skyward, while his teeth tapped together; for the image-maker was known to be a wizard and talker with the winds. Before then no one had dared so much as to throw a rock at the cave-dweller.

The ruler turned his eye upon the swordbearer and saw his fright. Yet the ruler said no word, for he loved his people, and knew that the wizard must be taken. Rather would he have sent his whole army one by one to come out no more from the darkness of the dread cave than that harm should come to himself or to his people, for he had the heart of a dinosaurus, one of the green kind. [Note: The professor insists this is right, but I think the adjective plainly refers to the apteryx, which was of a dusky emerald color when enraged.]

The swordbearer, having taken a damp farewell, gathered the bowmen and went toward the rising sun; but his heart was cold. When the fourth pinkness of dawning dyed the sky, came black figures against the blue at the ending of the earth where rises the world-lighter, and before the gong for the morning meal had thrice been rung to waken the sleep-loving-in-the-morning ruler, the sword-bearer came bringing the wicked wizard.

The wizard carried a chest or coffer, black, and covered close with hide, but having a dull eye at one end, and knobs and round trimmings, wrought curiously and of strange magic and witchery. [Note: Evidently the primitive camera, with the usual buttons.]

When the day was strong, arose the ruler, and ate half a zebra with trilobite sauce.

Then did I, his scribe, tell him humbly that the wizard awaited him.

"Where is my spear and my sword?" quoth the ruler.

"Here," said the scribe, my poor self.

"Put on my leather coat, bronze hat, and leggings of scarlet leather, the finest in the kingdom," quoth he, "that the wizard and the warriors and the maidens may see me in all my beauty, the strong war-ruler."

It was done, and never finer appeared the man of muscle who carries the heaviest club.

"Bring in the wizard," said Batta,—"who is there that is afraid?"

Then did my one knee exchange greetings with its fellow, as I the scribe went forth. For I was sore in terror, but Batta was not scared, though he was pale from his long sleep.

Forth went I to the swordbearer, gave greeting, and bade him bring in him-who-makes-images.

So the wizard was brought into the light of the presence of Batta, our ruler, who spoke thus:

"Well done, Swordbearer. You have caught him, the bat who flies in darkness. Did he scratch you?"

"Not at all," answered he of the sword. "I bade him vow by the sun that he would do me no injury. And he said he would vow me by the sun, the moon, the stars, or by whatsoever, if only again I would not poke him with my sword. So came he most quietly."

"It was well done," quoth Batta. "There is yet some zebra. Regale yourself. The sauce, too, is good."

Then my ruler and I were left with the wizard.

"It has come to my ear," spake Batta, "that you live in a darksome cave beneath the hill that is before the sun, and work witchcraft, catching away my people's souls with thy black box. What say you, O Wizard?"

The wizard smiled, but his lips were of the color of sand.

"O Batta," thus spake he, "I am but a poor man. I gather simples, herbs in the woods. I do cook them over the burning of sticks and of the black-stone-which-burns-long. Thus do I extract their strength, and therewith do that which to common men seems strange."

"But," said Batta, "all this is naught. What of the box—the soul-catcher?"

"It is but a picture-box," said the wizard. "It is curiously wrought, and will do in a winking of your royal eyelid more than a cunning worker in paint can do from dawn to dark."

"But," again spoke Batta, "that is witchcraft."

"Nay, great ruler," replied the wizard, " it is no witchcraft, and it harms no one."

"I fear me," said the ruler, making as he spoke a sniffing' with his nose, "that there is the smell of enchantment about thee."

"Pardon, wise ruler," replied he of the box; "that is but the odor of herb-extracts I use in making images."

"And the stains upon thy hands?" asked the keen-eyed, the wise Batta.

"The same extracts," replied the wizard. "I can hardly remove them, though I wash me until I am weary with washing."

"You have a glib tongue," was the saying of the ruler, "but I fear me it is of two ends."

"Not so," answered the wizard; "there is nothing of the black art in me. It is a simple thing I do. See—" and he raised the box.

"Point it not at me!" spake Batta, rapidly. "Try it on yon scribe, for if harm should befall him there are more among my people."

Then would I have fled, but my legs sank beneath me.

"Have no fear," said the wizard; "I have but to touch this little piece, and all is done, without harm to any."

"I know nothing of your box," said Batta, and did lay chin upon his hand, like a counselor; "but mayhap I had better drop thee and thy box into the sea that rests not."

Then the wizard set down the magic chest, and smote his breast. At last he spoke:

"Great ruler," said he, "if you will give me a few more risings and settings of the sun, and will send to my cave your scribe, I will show to him all my art, so that he may make the picture-flats, likewise. You know that he is no evil-worker, and he can tell you all my art. If not, you will know that I am speaking with a false tongue, and can throw me from the cliff down where the waves roll white."

"’T is little risk," replied my ruler; "a scribe more or a scribe less does not count in the roll of the fighting-men. Take him, and work thy wicked will upon him until the moon is a round shield. Come then again, and thou shalt be released or thrown into the sea which eats boats."

Then went I on my knees to the great Batta, trying with my tears to melt his heart. But as the drops from the wide-foot bird's back, so rolled my tears from the heart of Batta, who cared only for the good of his people.

So went I with the wizard to the cave to learn of the picture-flats.

Midnight moonless was bright day to the lightless gloom of that cavern. But there was a fire in front which gleamed like the fire-flashing fly of the swamps in the early of the year. And we ate of divers strange things. There were two-shelled soft fish that he did fry until they were toothsome. [Note: Perhaps a form of the fried oyster.] And there were also the thin-shelled sea-pinchers who go sidewise as doth a maiden seeing a gnawer of grain.

Wearied by the walk, I slept till the birds sang, and then rose to the meal of dawn.

Soon after, the wizard brought out his box, and though I shrank in terror from it, he did smile and encourage me till I put a finger upon it. It bit me not, and I felt braver. But a scribe is not a warrior. His blood is but ink.

The wizard said:

"O Scribe, fear not. 'T is a box such as holds thy styluses and reed-pens. But it has curious bits of bronze and of rock-you-can-see-through, whereby it makes pictures. Come, and I will give you the knowing of it."

Then he did open it; and it was black inside as a burnt stick, and had an eye in the fore part. He clicked at it with the forefinger, and did put in a flat piece like gray flint, and behold! a picture thereon, like unto the clear of view of midday, but smaller than the face in a baby's eye. It was most marvelous! He did also twist a bit of bronze around and brought a fog upon the little picture, which, however, presently cleared away as he did twist more.

[Note: Apparently the "wizard" was trying the focus upon what answered for the ground glass.]

Thus did he several times, and behold I grew bold, and did the same under his direction!

"THE WIZARD SAID: 'I CAUGHT YOU WELL. I THINK IT WILL COME OUT GOOD.'"

Then went we forth under the sky, and the wizard asked if I would throw up my hood and catch it again. In wonder at his silliness, I nevertheless did that folly. And just then I heard the clicking of the box, and the wizard said:

"I caught you well. I think it will come out good." Thereat was I sore afraid lest my foolish play with my hood had wrought witchery upon me. I waited to see what would "come out." But naught came forth, nor did I see that he had me caught, for I had full freedom of limbs as before.

He went into the cave, and I followed his footsteps. It was dark therein; but when he told me that I must come, I went, though I shook yet a little. "For," said I to myself, "even if I escape the wizard by running forth, he, the mighty and swift-footed Batta, will have me sure by the tunic."

So I went. There was a little light burning there, but the wizard did forthwith blow it out with the breath of his mouth, and did with a flint enkindle another light—a horrible light, the color of the crimson at sunset. Even yet with eyes shut I can see that witch-glow.

There in the redness did he open his box, draw forth a strange contrivance from which came a flat, light-colored shell, four-cornered, and thin like scraped horn. This was dropped into an earthen dish which held some most ill-smelling compound. And he rocked the dish, to and fro, smiling a ghastly smile,—such as is the grin of the long shark in the water of the deep. But behold, the dark and the light took shape and became an image! And if all the prophets and if all the counselors of the tribe were to prophesy till the hair of all was gray upon their shoulders, they could not have divined what was the image which came forth to mock me!

It was my soul. For as I leaped in the air to catch my hood, the wizard had caught my soul from me and fixed it there within the awful black-box-which-has-an-eye! But I was changed so that my own dear mother would not have known me. My face, paler than that of the sunburned warriors, was black like those of the men of the far south whose hair twists. My dark tunic was like the snow that flies in the sky when men walk upon rivers and the flowers die. All was like nothing I ever saw.

Then did the wizard wash the flat piece in a spring that came from the rock near at hand, and he did wash and wash again, until even the weariness of the rocking was not so long. Then did he soak the piece in another liquor in yet another dish, while I was faint with the long darkness.

Gladly I saw the sunlight again, and heard the birds chirp as if black caves were not.

"More washing?" I asked; for it seemed that there would never be an end of the plashing of water.

"Only a little," said the wizard. He did fix the flat piece next in a four-sided frame, and cooked it in the sunshine, while I wondered if he would desire me to eat my soul, baked in the sun, for dinner!

But after he had baked the frame, he did break it open, and then came more washing. I thought that the wizard would wear out his fingers with much plashing, in the water.

I think that my eyelids must have shut me to sleep for a while, but when I opened them there stood the wizard, and in his hand he did hold a picture wherein I was shown to leap like a horse in fresh pasture, bounding after my hood in the air with the fool-play I have told.

Thus saw I first the making of pictures, and that day was like many that followed. Nay, I did even make pictures myself with the wizard to stand by and say, "Do thou this," "Do thou so"; but of the witchcraft of it little did I know. I was but as his hand or foot in doing his bidding.

In all that we did the wizard feared the light. For he said that the sun would steal away the pictures—which seemed strange enough to me.

Meanwhile grew the moon, till it came round like a shield, and we were to go to the ruler. The last day I was with the wizard, I did make two pictures by myself, and he did praise me and gave me one wherein I did look too sweet, like unto the coo-bird, and brave as the roarer is brave before the bleater. This received I gladly, for I knew not before how comely I was.

At sunrise did we set forth for the dwelling of Batta, the sagacious-in-combat. The wizard carried the wonder-box. I did carry earthenware jars filled with liquids and compounds, very heavy, and I did also carry many of the flat pieces, each closed cunningly in a case like a quiver.

When we came unto the town, Batta sat upon his throne beneath a sun-shield.

"Aha! Wizard," he cried, "then you have not eaten our scribe? 'T is as well, mayhap. Now, has he learned your art?"

"In sooth, that has he," said the wizard, cheerfully. "Will not you try him?"

"That I will," spake Batta. "Go thou to work, Scribe, and take three trials. Paint me the picture of Batta—Batta who puts foes to flight! Three trials shall be thine, and then—"

So ceased Batta. But when the wizard tried to go with me to the hut, Batta forbade him.

Then did I as I saw the wizard do ere he took the box for making a picture, and forth I sallied to do my best.

As I came forth, I pointed the box at the great Batta, and I pushed upon the magic piece, and hurried back to the hut, which had been made dark save for the crimson light which we brought from the cave. Here went I through the washing. But no picture came!

Then strode I forth in sadness.

The wizard pointed an accusing finger at the box, as I came out from the darkness of the hut, and then knew I what I had done! I had not uncovered the eye of the box!

Again I essayed, and fled into the hut, but with careless hand did put the flat into the wrong dish. And behold again no picture came!

Then came I forth in sadness.

The wizard's face was like a dull day when the leaves are falling. But when I again pointed the magic-box, and opened its eye, and set in the proper pieces with all due caution, he smiled again.

With backward step, I betook myself for the last time to the dark hut, and rocked and washed and soaked and washed till I was weary like unto the slaves that row the galley of Batta.

And this time the picture came forth like sunshine after a rain; and it was Batta—Batta upon his throne, and dressed as for war. Then rushed I forth rejoicing with my prize, and the wizard made merry.

Into the warm sun did I set the picture to cook, and when I took it forth it was so like to Batta that I thought it would speak; and I showed it to him proudly.

"'DO I LOOK LIKE THAT?' CRIED HE TO THE WIZARD"

But, as the cloud comes over the face of the sun, so descended wrath upon the black brows of the great ruler as he gazed.

"Do I look like that?" cried he to the wizard.

"It is your very image!" spoke up one of the younger warriors.

"You are banished for life!" roared the just and great ruler of his people. And it was so from that day forth. "Do I look like that?" he asked again, with the voice of a thunder-peal, this time turning to the white-haired counselor, he-who-speaks-little-but-wisely.

"I would not be so foolish as to say it was like you, great Batta!" answered the counselor; and the rest who stood about said that his words were wise.

"Your art is no art!" then said the great Batta; and, calling the swordbearer, he ordered that the wizard's box should be thrown into the sea, together with his vile compounds, his dishes, the liquids, and his flat pieces and the baleful red-fire maker.

And it was done upon that instant.

"It were best to send thee with thy tools!" said Batta; and in a moment the wizard was hurried to the brink of the cliff which hangs over the playground of the waves—

Here the manuscript is torn, and it is impossible to decipher it further. But I am sure that the reader will agree with me in deciding that it contains an early account of photography, and also that the conclusion, imperfect as it is, would lead one to suppose that the art was somewhat discouraged.

Those who desire to verify the translation will find the original document among the archives of the Grand Lama's Museum in Tibet. You will find it at the back of the top shelf on the left-hand side.

2. The Tongaloo Tournament

THE TONGALOO TOURNAMENT

WHEN I was a young man, about thirty years of age, I came to the city to make my fortune. I had no profession and was ready to do anything honorable that promised me fair wages. To save my money, I boarded with another young fellow who was also looking for work. He was hardly more than a boy, about fifteen, I think, but he may have been younger.

His name was Marmaduke Perron, and I think he must have been French, he was always so gay and confident. Nothing made him blue. Even when we had spent all but enough to pay one week's board he would not be discouraged. He went every day to answer advertisements or to ask for work.

I was older, came of Scotch stock, and was more easily disheartened.

One day, after a long tramp about the city without finding anything except an agency to sell very poor s, I came in, and settled down by our little cylinder stove, entirely hopeless. I had about made up my mind to go back to my country home, when Marmaduke came in. He seemed very jolly, and for the first moment I thought he must have found work. Then I remembered that he always did come back in a happy frame of mind, and I became gloomy again.

This time, however, Marmaduke had found something—though I was inclined to sneer when he told me what it was.

"Well, our luck has turned at last!" said he, brightly. "I knew it would."

"Have you found a place?" I inquired, with but little interest.

"Yes," he answered. "And what is better, I have found a place for you, too."

"What is it?" I asked, with some little hope.

"I went to answer an advertisement calling for agents willing to travel abroad," said Marmaduke, "and I found a firm of dealers in notions who wanted two young men to go to Corea and sell a miscellaneous cargo."

"Corea? Where's Corea?" I asked, for I had only a vague notion of the country.

"Don't know, I'm sure," said Marmaduke, as if impatient of the interruption; "but the old man I saw was quite confidential with me. He told me that his firm had bought a large number of roller-skates and did n't quite know what to do with them."

"Why don't they sell them?"

"They can't. These are the old-fashioned kind. They fasten with straps," Marmaduke explained, "and all the new roller-skates fasten with clamps. So there is no market for them in this country."

"And why do they think they will sell in Corea?" I asked, but with little interest, for the whole scheme seemed to me very absurd. "How did the firm come to buy them?"

"There's a queer story about that," said Marmaduke earnestly. "They told me about it in confidence; but I can tell you, because we are going into this enterprise together."

"You 're sure of that?" I asked, smiling in spite of myself.

"It's a splendid chance!" said Marmaduke. "The way they came to buy them was this: the senior partner of the firm is getting old and is a little shaky in his intellect, but he loves to buy things; and as his partners are his sons, they don't like to interfere with his pleasure. Usually he buys only trifles, but somehow he had an idea that these skates were a great investment and he has bought hundreds of them. He expects to 'realize,' as they say, a large profit."

"How ridiculous!" I broke in.

"I don't think so," said Marmaduke. "I think the old man has a very level head. Do you remember Lord Timothy Dexter and the warming-pans?"

"No, I don't," I answered, and he was too impatient to tell me about it. He was full of the Corean enterprise.

"Corea," he said, "is, they tell me, a new country. That is, it has n't long been open to commerce. I believe the natives will jump at the skates!"

As I was tired and sleepy I refused to hear anything more about so foolish a venture, and went to bed. Marmaduke tried in vain to talk to me as I was undressing. I shut my bedroom door and put out the light.

Next morning, however, there was a very strong argument in favor of the plan. That was my lack of cash. I must do something, and as this firm offered to pay all our expenses and give us a commission besides, both on the present lot of skates and on all for which we might make a market, I could n't see that we risked anything. Then, too, I was fond of the boy, was glad to be with him, and had n't the heart to disappoint him by refusing. In short, I consented, though I was sure we were going on a fool's errand.

So we set sail. Marmaduke was full of hope, and I, though expecting nothing, was glad of the sea-voyage and of the rest. The first part of our journey was by steamer, and the latter part was by a sailing-vessel. The voyage was without anything to compare in interest with our adventures on land, so I will pass on to the time when we were put ashore near a native village which looked about as dreary and melancholy as any place could look. There was n't a thing in sight except the low mud houses thatched with a sort of rushes.

We found out afterward that we had made a serious mistake. The place to which our cargo was consigned was something like a city—as nearly as such things exist in Corea. But, by a mistake in the name, we were landed upon an island where no white man had preceded us.

Consequently, the natives had fled in terror when the ship landed us and unloaded our boxes of skates and then sailed away as rapidly as possible. The captain, to judge by his hasty departure, knew the character of the natives and was glad to put a few leagues between his ship and these savages. For savages they were, as we soon found out. No sooner was the ship out of sight than the bushes round about the beach began to blossom with heads. Then the natives came out one by one, and before we fairly understood our position we were seized, bound hand and foot, hoisted upon the shoulders of some outlandish warriors, and borne away in triumph, followed by a long file of natives, carrying each a box of roller-skates.

We were entirely unarmed, and could have made no resistance even if there had been time.

"This is a pleasant beginning!" I said, with some bitterness.

"There's nothing very unpleasant so far," said Marmaduke cheerfully. "You know I was afraid we might have trouble with the custom-house, or that the freight charges might eat up our profits."

"There does n't seem to be any trouble about getting into the country, I must admit," I answered frankly. "But I am afraid there may be some question about who owns the goods when we get there."

"I don't believe in going to seek trouble," said Marmaduke. "They evidently want our company, and seem to have no objection to carrying our baggage."

Meanwhile, the Coreans made no remarks, but kept up a steady jog-trot which soon brought them to the center of the village, where they halted before a hut larger than any we had seen.

Here they untied us, and made signs that we should enter the hut.

"Probably the custom-house!" I said dryly.

"The principal hotel, I think," said Marmaduke, stretching his legs and arms.

The building contained only one room, and at the further end of this sat the chief—at least we judged so because he was the crossest-looking man in the room; and we subsequently discovered that we were right.

Then began our trial. Though, of course, we could not understand a word that was said, it was very easy to follow the general line of the talk.

First, the man who commanded the procession which brought us in told his story. He described the ship, our landing, the ship's hasty departure, the capture of ourselves, and, concluding, pointed to the boxes.

Then the chief commanded one of the boxes to be opened. It was forced open with a small hatchet-like weapon, and one of the skates was handed to the chief. He was completely puzzled. He blew on it, rubbed it over his head, weighed it, tried to spin it, and then turned to us, saying something like:

"Walla ella ing-kang-cho?"

Thereupon Marmaduke replied sweetly:

"Yes, most noble panjandrum. You have hit it exactly. It's a simple roller-skate. I see you don't understand it at all, and I'm not surprised. You don't seem over-intelligent."

The chief shook his head impatiently and growled. Then he picked up an ivory baton lying by his side, and struck a sweet-toned gong.

"I hope that's dinner," said Marmaduke, and I agreed with him, providing we were to be guests only, and not the choicest dainties on the bill of fare.

But we were wrong. As the gong tones were dying away a curious figure entered the hut and made its way toward the dais where the chief was sitting. It was that of an old man with a scanty snow-white beard. He carried a carved rattle in his hand and shook it as he walked.

"TAKING THE SKATE VERY GINGERLY IN HIS LEFT HAND, HE SPUN THE LITTLE WHEELS WITH HIS RIGHT."

"Well, Old Rattle-box," said Marmaduke, "I hope you will help us out of this fix. Maybe he's an interpreter."

"More likely to be the head cook," was my suggestion.

The new-comer conferred for a few moments with the chief, and then bent all his energies to the mystery of the roller-skate. Need- less to say, it was too much for him. But he seemed clever enough to pretend he knew all about it. So, taking the skate very gingerly in his left hand, he spun the little wheels with his right. Then he dropped it as if it was a very hot potato, and turning to the chief began to chatter away in a tone which showed he was bringing some frightful accusation against our innocent merchandise.